


Arrival

by StarTravel



Series: Begin Again [2]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Depression, Post-Canon Cardassia, Post-Canon Fix-It, Reunions, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 19:57:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20954066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarTravel/pseuds/StarTravel
Summary: Julian, still unsure of himself and the future, arrives on Cardassia and ponders the nature of rebuilding.





	Arrival

Julian arrives on Cardassia in a runabout packed with medical supplies, barely enough room for him and the pilot between boxes of regenerators and medication. His bag, with a few outfits and padds he managed to steal away before he abandoned his life as he’d known it until now.

Julian was technically on leave from Starfleet, but he doesn’t have any intentions of going back. He would stay on Cardassia as long as they needed him and once they didn’t … 

Maybe someone there would. But no, Julian refuses to hope for that. It’s not fair to Garak to expect him to be his savior from the hell he’s created for himself. Julian isn’t going to Cardassia for salvation, but some kind of redemption before he came to an end. 

Julian swallows as the runabout lands roughly, Julian nearly toppling forward as he grabs the sides of his some of the more fragile medicine. 

“Sorry about that, sir. Aren’t exactly many good places to land close to the city center.” The pilot calls back, smile bright and brown eyes warm and just a touch amused by the way Julian flails as he tries to keep his boxes in check. He reminds him a bit of Captain Sisko and Julian smiles thinly and tries not to focus on the ghosts from his past. 

“No problem, I’m used to roughing it. Conditions weren’t exactly pleasant during the war.” His voice is light and a touch smug, almost playful as it rings across the thin metal walls of the runabout. Julian is surprised by how much he sounds like the old Julian, before the war showed him what kind of man he really is. 

He swallows down a bitter laugh, shaking his shoulders out as he picks up a few boxes. They should be near the hospital compound Julian’s applied to work at for the next few months. He’d expected interrogations about his status and his history with Starfleet, piercing eyes and sharp rebukes following his every word. Instead he simply received approval to serve as a medical envoy, a few padds detailing the current health and biodiversity on Cardassia. 

It seems that Cardassia has changed as much as Julian over the past few years, dust and time settling over both until whatever shine they might have had is dulled. 

The difference is that there’s hope for Cardassia to recover, it’s people still bright and industrious even as their world has fallen to ruins. There’s a beauty to that strength, one Julian doesn’t have, that moves him to his core. He couldn’t save himself, but he can help save more deserving lives here. That will be enough. 

Julian shakes himself from his reveries, picking up several boxes full of medicine from the ground without strain. No point in pretending anymore. The metal doors slide open, the bright suns of Cardassia suddenly hitting him, Julian’s face scrunching up as his eyes adjust to the light. 

When they go, he finds several makeshift buildings placed next to each other alongside remnants of glittering Obsidian buildings. In between them, Julian watches as several Cardassian doctors move swiftly between buildings, while a few children linger in between the sick houses playing a game that looked a bit like hopscotch. One of the little girls catches his eye and waves, before returning to her game as though she has no cares in the world, as though she’s not been touched by some kind of plague. 

Cardassia isn’t desolate, two years of rebuilding and the spirit of its people evident in every piece of stone and metal holding the hospital together. But conditions are bleak, the dust from the destruction still inflicting lungs and a plague spreading and debilitating city centers. Julian has come to help, to cure the plague if he can - but he’ll assume it’s an if. He won’t make the same mistakes he did with the Blight. Julian’s far too old to try and play the hero anymore. 

He carries his supplies towards the camp site, smiling stiffly as one of the adult Cardassians finally takes notice of him. The woman is older than him from the looks of it, hair a shocking white and a stiffness to the ridges along her face that Julian guesses is similar to wrinkling for a human. He’ll have to ask … he’ll have to look it up. Her clothes were black linen made from linen, shoes a simple pair of sandals. 

“You must be Julian Bashir.” She calls, voice leaving no room for question. Her green eyes slide over him, Julian finally receiving the sharp gaze he’s been waiting for since he first applied for this assignment a few weeks ago. He finds himself holding his breath, wondering if he’ll be found wanting and sent back to a Starfleet that doesn’t have any use of him. Her gaze lingers on his collarbones, visible with the low cut of his shirt. he can’t quite decide if she disapproves or not. “Your Elim Garak’s friend, correct?”

“Excuse me?” Julian’s voice rises a bit in spite of himself, shoulders stiffening at her clipped words. He never mentioned Garak in any of his correspondence with the Cardassian Medical Aid, never asked anyone about his whereabouts or if he’d gotten Julian’s many letters. 

But then, this is Cardassia. If they want to know about him, they will. Julain smiles a bit too wide, gaze empty as he nods and tries to force charming words onto his tongue. “You know Garak?”

“Everyone knows Garak.” Her voice is cool and dismissive, as though Julian was a fool to ask in the first place. He narrows his gaze but just resists the urge to ask all the questions swirling in his head. The Garak Julian knows wouldn’t have allowed for that. But then, maybe where Julian has closed himself off to the world, Garak has finally opened himself up to it. 

Maybe while Julian has diminished, Garak has only grown brighter. 

It almost seems fair in a way, as though Julian has finally been punished for all of his sins and Garak rewarded for his sacrifices the way Cardassian Comedies always promised men like him would be. Shakespeare ended in marriage, Takal’s world ended in government appointments. 

Julian swallows a bit and holds out his hands in front of himself in a Cardassian greeting Garak taught him years ago. “Yes, yes, I’m Garak’s friend Julian. Would you be Doctor Eula Tarani by any chance?”

“I would. Your medical records are sterling. I hope you live up to them.” She chides, though her voice is just a touch too warm to be mistaken for Cardassian flirting. She starts walking across the compound without another word. Julian follows her after a moment, boxes of medical supplies still in his arms and strapped to his back. 

She leads him to a building that appears to be some kind of storage falicity, towering walls of bandages and regenerators surrounding them. He doesn’t have to count them — though his cursed brain already has — to know they’re not nearly enough to treat the people inhabiting Lakarian City. What he’s brought will barely make a dent in that. 

Julian sets his boxes down carefully, starting to unwrap the first one when he feels a hand on his shoulder. Dr. Tarani shakes her head almost imperceptibly and then tilts her gaze to the heavy metal doors on the other side of the facility. Julian meets her gaze and stands all the way up, pulling himself to his full height. He glances at the room, nearly all grey everywhere he looks. The walls are drab like concrete, the floor metal beneath his sandals. All lifeless and cold and -

Tarani starts her march up again without looking back, and Julian follows her wordlessly again. They stop when they get to the metal doors, her gaze turning on him with one raised eye ridge. Julian lets out a low exhale, meeting her eyes with a firm look of his own. That makes her smile, sharp and knowing as she waves a hand at the door. “You can’t start working until we finish our training protocols tomorrow morning, I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course.” Julian answers as he takes his bag in his hands, fingers clenching against the smooth material. He wishes he could start right away, bury himself in medicine and numbers, but he understands why he can’t better than he’d like. A Starfleet doctor with a history with Section 31 suddenly abandoning their post to work on a Cardassia that is still at odds with the Federation was suspicious at  _ best. _

_ _ Julian doesn’t know if he’s more worried about the interrogation or the pity when they realized he isn’t a threat so much as an exile. 

Tarani catches his eye, voice suddenly perfectly neutral. “For now we can take your bags to the house.” 

“House? I think there’s been some kind of mistake. I only applied for a bed in one of the med bays.”

Tarani’s smile grows a touch strained, ridges stiffening the same way Garak’s used to when he said something particularly stupid. “Yes, but we certainly couldn’t let you stay there before protocols. Besides, one of the city officials wanted to give you a tour and offered you a room in their home. You should be grateful, housing is hard to come by.”

“Of course I am, I just — a city official?” Julian stops mid stride, eyes widening as he realizes he’s about to have a confrontation he won’t be prepared for yet. He thought he’d have weeks before he saw Garak again, not  _ hours.  _ Julian swallows a few times, voice coming out tighter than he would’ve liked. “I thought ambassador Garak would be too busy with his work securing Federation aid to bother with an old acquaintance.”

“Why Doctor Bashir, you must realize that you’re the greatest piece of aid the Federation has given us in some time.” Her words are kind, but they’re tinged with a sharpness that makes Julian wonder why exactly he was allowed to leave his post in the first place. 

He picks up his bags and lets her lead him to a expressionless guard, who leads him several blocks down to a small house. Before it stands Garak. 

He’s dressed in a crimson suit, vest an intricate pattern of Cardassian orchids. He looks much the same as when they parted ways two years ago, save a few lines of silver in his hair and the smile on his face, careful and professional as his new role likely required. It doesn’t reach his eyes. 

Tarani walks away from them with a brief nod that Julian barely thinks to return. His words are all caught in his throat, a million questions and a million apologies all blending together and leaving him tongue-tied. Garak takes a step toward him, brushing a hand across his shoulder. “Doctor, I hope you didn’t come all this way for me.” 

“No, I came here for me.” Are the first words that come out of his mouth, and he winces at how childish and selfish they must be to this man who has sacrificed everything for the greater good. But Garak smiles at him, genuine and warm as he pulls Julian closer to his side. 

“Good.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if you think anything else should be tagged. 
> 
> Comments and questions are loved!


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